


Shifting Paradigms

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: A Breath of Home [16]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Ryan meet at the San Diego Comic Con and hot sex ensues. This chapter continues Ryan's visit to Margaret River, where Sam is working on <span class="u">Drift</span>. Ryan visits Sam on set.</p><p>
  <i>Ryan stares down, bleary-eyed. He slumps against the trailer wall, jeans open, prick hanging out, too melted to move. If Sam wants him to reciprocate the attentions, then he's going to have to wait until the end of the day. Because Ryan's got nothing right now.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifting Paradigms

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the RPG Citadel, this is NOT backstory for our pups in the game. In Citadel, Sam is played as the actor and Ryan is played AU as a songwriter. And then a little birdie told us our boys were going to be at SDCC at the same time in real life and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see what would happen in another world, with the boys both as their actor selves.

Sam's not sure when Ryan's coming by. All he knows is that he is and that alone has Sam so fucking wired he can barely contain his excitement. Which is not good when three or four people have already asked him to account for his particularly upbeat mood. So far he's gotten away with telling them his mate's coming by and they're going for drinks and hell it's Friday, so you can't get much better than that. Still. It doesn't say a lot for his acting skills. Christ. Sam rubs his hands over his face and shakes his head, hoping to clear it and refocus as he watches Xavier and Myles shoot the scene before his.

Ryan has been on a lot of film sets in his time, but there's a totally different feeling when he's a visitor versus when he's working. He tries now to fade into the background, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hunching into his hoodie. Maybe this way he can get away with watching Sam as avidly as he does. Because damn Sam is sexy like this, so intent and focused on his role.

Once he's shooting, Sam's mind is completely on the scene. He hates it when other actors hold things up by not being professional and he's determined not to be like that. He knows his lines by heart, delivers them the way he needs to, heeds any direction he's given and this scene takes half the time of the last one. He high-fives Steve and then heads for his chair, only then noticing Ryan standing at the back. A tell-tale grin breaking out instantly. Fuck.

The answering smile is immediate. Ryan just can't help it -- he lights up when Sam flashes that boyish grin, all dimples and charm. "Hey," he says after making his way past a couple crewmembers. "Looks like fun."

"Yeah, it is," Sam says, shoving his hands in his pockets - the better to keep them off Ryan. "I wish I was surfing though."

"Pretty cold out there," Ryan says, thinking back to surfing with Sam yesterday, and how they'd damn near frozen in the waves. Of course then that leads to thoughts of how they'd warmed up afterwards... _Fuck_. A hot blush rises on his cheeks.

"It's not that bad," Sam protests, grinning, that blush making him want to do things... God. "Not with a wetsuit."

Ryan nods once, chewing on his bottom lip. "My mistake," he says softly. Abruptly he looks away, realizing he probably couldn't look more obvious if he tried. How the hell Sam manages to look so sexy in ugly 70's clothing is just a mystery to Ryan.

"So, you want to meet some of these guys?" Sam says, resisting the urge to tease Ryan, deepen that blush, instead introducing him to the various cast members, a number of whom seem to be big True Blood fans and get downright embarrassingly excited about meeting 'Jason Stackhouse'.

Even as he pushes his hood back from his face, Ryan fights the urge to retreat even further. He smiles and shakes hands, ducking under the adulation. He couldn't feel much more ordinary right now, far from his job as he is. But he tries to summon up his charm anyway, reassured by the presence of Sam at his side. Knowing that Sam outshines him anyday.

"You just made their afternoon," Sam says when they're able to break away, everyone finally dispersing and going back to their jobs. "I'm on break. Probably only have another scene after that. Want to check out my trailer?"

 _Shit_. "Sure," Ryan manages, stuffing his hands back into his jeans pockets and turning to follow Sam. Alone, now? With his lover? This might be a terrible idea. He can behave though, he's determined. No touching Sam at work, for obvious reasons.

"You want something to drink?" Sam asks on the way. "I have beer and juice in the fridge but if you want something hot, we'll have go by crafts."

"No, I don't--" _need something hot_? Yeah, Ryan can't finish that sentence. "Cold water's fine," he adds. "Is there actually anything in your trailer? I mean, of yours, that makes it look different from anyone else's?"

Sam just grins. "You'll see."

Quirking a brow, Ryan follows. And as soon as he climbs the stairs up to Sam's trailer, he understands. The walls are absolutely plastered with metalhead posters -- Rage Against the Machine, Silverchair, and of course, Sam's beloved Motörhead. "Dude," Ryan says, looking around in awe. "You're secretly still fifteen."

Sam cracks up. "Explains my libido," he says with a wide grin.

"It might," Ryan allows, matching his grin. That's a subject they should probably stay away from for right now. He kicks back onto a sofa, his eyes on Sam.

"So, what's your trailer like?" Sam asks, reaching into the fridge and handing Ryan a bottle of water. "You sure you don't want a beer?" He gets a shake of the head and cracks one open for himself. "For True Blood, I mean. Have you personalized it at all?"

"My trailer?" Ryan takes a swallow of water. "It's got a Scrabble board, front and center." He grins at Sam. "Do you play?" It _sounds_ like an innocent invitation, sure...

"I _can_ play," Sam says, taking a swig of his beer. "I can't remember the last time I did though. Why? Are you planning on beating the crap out of me when I come to visit?" He grins, heart thumping like wild inside his chest. It's one of the first times either of them alluded to the future.

The question nearly knocks Ryan back a step. He won't be back in his _True Blood_ trailer again until January. _Months_ away. "Yeah," he says softly, thinking how awesome it would be to still be with Sam next year. He smiles.

Ryan's response has Sam so fucking happy he could burst. He grins, hiding the smile behind his beer bottle, and takes another couple of swigs. "So... I told everyone we were going out for drinks when we're done. We'd better at least put in an appearance at the pub."

"Okay. I haven't had any greasy pub chips in at least a week," Ryan tells him. He finishes off his water and sets the empty bottle aside, but now he doesn't know what to do with his hands. The temptation to touch Sam is so strong, and he rubs his itchy palms on his thighs.

Sam rubs a hand over the back of his neck, watching Ryan, and then takes a step forward, locking his trailer door. He leans back against the cabinets again and crooks a finger at Ryan.

Surprised, Ryan actually checks over his shoulder, like he's not sure who Sam is beckoning. Of course it could only be him, so he pushes to his feet and takes a hesitant step closer. He wonders if it's just his imagination that he can feel the heat radiating off his lover's body.

"Don't worry," Sam says, taking hold of Ryan's wrist and tugging him closer. "No one's going to see us."

"But you're at work," Ryan whispers, even as he slides his arm around Sam's waist. Of course he can't help the way he immediately leans in and licks at the base of Sam's throat.

"And I'm in my trailer, alone with my lover," Sam says, kissing his way along Ryan's jaw.

It gives Ryan such a thrill to hear Sam talk about him that way. He tips his head back, inviting more. And he can feel his cock hardening against Sam's thigh, the anticipation and excitement of the last few hours coalescing.

Sam kisses his way down Ryan's throat, turning them so Ryan's the one up against the cabinets. Kissing still lower, into the V of Ryan's hoodie, under the neck of his tee, before he drops to his knees, more kisses pressed to Ryan's belly.

 _Holy shit_. Sam on his knees... it just blows Ryan's mind. He drops his hands to Sam's hair then abruptly changes his mind, worried about mussing him. Hands laid gently on Sam's shoulders then, and Ryan's breath hitches as he stares down at his lover.

Keeping Ryan's t-shirt out of the way, Sam grips the corner of Ryan's jeans with his teeth and _pulls_ , the button giving easily and the zipper coming half undone. He'd intended to just make out with Ryan, get hot and heavy for a few minutes in his trailer, but here, now, with the way Ryan's looking at him? He can't resist.

A groan rumbles softly in Ryan's throat. It's nearly a helpless sound, surrender -- god, Sam can just turn him into a puddle. Ryan doesn't know how far Sam plans on going, if he's just going to tease him... but Ryan wants his lover's mouth on his cock so bad that he's close to begging for it. Feeling like he'll die if he doesn't get it.

Drawing the zipper the rest of the way with his teeth - a trick he hasn't used in a long time - Sam mouths Ryan's cock through his boxers, lightly chewing at the head through the cotton.

Ryan whimpers, thudding his head back against the cabinet. He screws his eyes shut and just feels, sparks of lust streaking through him at every seductive touch.

Sam nibbles and gnaws at Ryan's cock through his boxers, working his way up and down the length.

It's not long at all before Ryan is gently rocking his hips, unable to help himself. Trying to get more of this, more of anything... just more. "Please," he gasps, and licks his lips to try again. "Please. More."

Sam sits back on his heels for a moment, looking up at Ryan. "Should I make you come in your jeans?"

Ryan blinks open bleary eyes. "I can't go back out there like that," he whispers, staring down at Sam. At Sam's mouth.

"Then what?" Sam asks. Like he doesn't know. "You want to come in my mouth? Fuck my throat?"

"God, yes," Ryan whispers. "Want your lips wrapped around me." He's aching, his cock damp where Sam's mouth has touched.

Sam grins. "Say please..." he teases - mostly - leaning in to breathe another hot breath across the tip, his hands reaching for the band of Ryan's boxers. Hovering...

 _Fuck_. Ryan groans, and realizes he never even had a chance. "Please," he says softly, meeting Sam's devastatingly blue eyes. "Please, Sam, suck me off. I want to come in your mouth."

"Well, when you put it like that..." Sam trails off, Ryan's cock springing free, rigid and already wet at its tip, as he rolls down the band. He doesn't waste another second, mindful he could be called at any minute. Instead, just takes Ryan in, groaning as that hard hot flesh fills his throat.

Ryan's head hits the wall again, harder this time. He couldn't care less -- it's taking all his effort right now not to shout. And _damn_ it, he's definitely messing up Sam's hair now. They'll have to do something about that later. Right now, though... He whimpers, trying to make the sound as quiet as possible.

Head bobbing steadily, Sam takes Ryan in again and again, his cheeks hollowing, and his cock throbbing with pure pleasure as he fucks his throat on his lover's cock. In his trailer. Where they could be found by anyone. Except for the lock on the door, but he's ignoring that, instead preferring to dwell on the illicitness of the act.

"God, Sam," Ryan whispers, dragging open heavy eyelids so he can watch. The sight twists him up so tight that he clamps down on a moan, his fingers tugging gently on Sam's hair. "I'm close," he murmurs, rocking his hips and hissing at the wicked heat of his lover's mouth. "Close..." Abruptly he pushes his wrist between his lips and bites down hard, his body jerking with twin shocks of pleasure and pain. Spilling hot down Sam's throat.

Sam groans softly as Ryan floods his throat, _thisclose_ to coming without even being touched when he glances up and sees Ryan biting down on his wrist to keep from giving them away. Fuck. He swallows again and again, determined not to miss a drop, then sits back on his heels, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "Mm. That hit the spot."

Ryan stares down, bleary-eyed. He slumps against the trailer wall, jeans open, prick hanging out, too melted to move. If Sam wants him to reciprocate the attentions, then he's going to have to wait until the end of the day. Because Ryan's got nothing right now.

Grinning, Sam rocks to his feet, sliding his arms around Ryan and pulling him in close. "You okay?" he asks, just checking.

"Mm-hmm." Kissing Sam, that's something Ryan can manage. And he does, wrapping his arms around his lover in turn and letting himself drown in Sam's mouth.

///

"So, what did you think?" Sam asks, when they're settled in later at the local pub, pints on the table in front of them. "Any different than the sets you've worked on?"

"Nah." Ryan smiles up at the waitress as she drops baskets of chips and chicken wings on their table. It's pretty obvious by the vibe in the bar that this film is the biggest thing to happen to Margaret River in a long time. Ryan grins at Sam. "Except for the hair. Yours is worse."

"No kidding. Christ." Sam laughs, picking up a chicken wing. "Want to grab a camera before I finish and we'll pretend we found a Sasquatch?"

Covering his mouth with his hand, Ryan smothers a snicker. "Does it make you feel less inhibited?" he teases.

"It better not," Sam teases back. "I'd hate to see what I'd be willing to do."

 _Oh god_. That just puts all sorts of wicked thoughts into Ryan's head -- and he's pretty sure Sam can read those thoughts on his face. So he ducks his head and focuses on his beer for a long moment. Flirting with Sam has just become second nature.

"I have a pretty good idea what that look means," Sam says, leaning closer, his voice kept down though god knows the pub's noisier than a fucking rock concert. "Come on. 'Fess up."

Ryan raises an eyebrow. "'Run naked through the streets' uninhibited?" he asks, then leans close, mirroring Sam's posture. "Or 'scream my name' uninhibited?"

A small smile curves Sam's lips. "Maybe a bit of both -- depending on the incentive."

"We could try combining the two," Ryan says, enchanted by that smile. "Let's see... incentive?" He teases his tongue at the corner of his mouth. Because he really _can't_ say what he's thinking; not here.

Sam's grin widens. "Are we playing charades?"

Ryan barks a laugh. "Sounds like..." He makes swimming motions, careful not to knock over his beer.

Christ. Sam shifts slightly where he sits, covering for the move by reaching for another chicken wing. "I think that would work," he murmurs. "Although you know... we both could - at the same time..." Tracing a six and then a nine on the table in the crook of his arm. For Ryan's eyes only.

God, the pub TV is suddenly fascinating. A game of football featuring someone against... someone. Ryan chews on his bottom lip, watching the screen for a long moment. But finally he has to accept that he can't simply will his hard-on out of existence. So he meets Sam's eyes again, and nods.

"Well, we need to stick around long enough to have made a decent show," Sam says, popping a few chips in his mouth and motioning for another round even though they're only halfway through the pints they have now. "But we can always stumble out after the next round."

"You're not worried I'll get sloppy?" Ryan murmurs through his smile. He tips back his beer, trying to finish it off fast. God, no one has gotten him this revved-up so often since he was dogging girls in high school.

"Only if you're telling me you're a cheap date," Sam retorts, beer glass held in front of his mouth, his eyes widening as Xavier and Myles enter the bar. "Aw shit," he mutters under his breath. All his plans fucking dashed as the two make a beeline straight for their table. "Here comes trouble."

Looking up in surprise, Ryan actually has to remind himself to smile and nod. _Damn it. Now?_ He shifts against the vinyl bench uncomfortably and presses a discreet hand against his erection, trying to conceal it better.

"Hey." Sam nods at both men. "How's it going?" Moving over as Xavier makes to settle beside him without even being asked to join them. Myles joins the Ryan on the other side of the table and the next thing he knows the waitress is back at their booth, setting them up with a couple of pitchers and taking orders for more wings and chips. "I thought you two had some hot double date planned for tonight?"

Xavier sighs. "We did until Casey's grandparents came into town for the weekend and Rachel didn't feel comfortable coming out alone with the two of us."

"Rachel's not as wild as she looks?" Ryan asks, grinning slyly. "That's a bloody shame." Not like he's thinking about what it would be like for he and Sam to have a woman between them, oh hell no... Yeah, _fuck_ , his fucking erection is going absolutely nowhere.

"No kidding," Sam murmurs, grinning, and grinning even wider when Xavier hits him on the shoulder. "Hey. What's that for?"

"You're a fucking pervert," Xavier says, shaking his head and taking a sip of his beer.

"Ryan started it," Sam retorts, eyes sparkling. "And look at that guy," he says, nodding towards Myles who is wisely keeping silent. "You just fucking know he was thinking the same thing."

Ryan grins and rubs his hand over his eyes. God, the irony, it burns. He sips at his beer, and looks at Myles. "So, what are you lot going to do tonight?"

"I think the back-up plan was to get pissed out of our skulls," Myles says. "Start with this pub and move to another when they cut us off."

"Yeah." Xavier nods. "Want to join us? Good old-fashioned pub crawl?"

Sam looks to Ryan.

 _Fucking damn it_. Ryan can't think of anything he wants to do less right now. Unfortunately, he also can't think of any way to muscle himself and Sam out of here together without it looking weird as all hell. He raises his pint in a weak salute. "I'm... kind of a lightweight," he lies, cursing himself for not being more ingenuous.

"Yeah, and we were planning on getting up pretty early tomorrow," Sam says, deciding he doesn't care how lame-ass they sound. "There's this one beach up the coast I wanted to show Ryan. Fucking brilliant surf." He smiles easily. "How about we see you out here?" He glances at Ryan again. "Unless you'd rather do this?"

"Nah, that sounds good," Ryan agrees, not meeting Sam's eyes. He picks up a pitcher and tops off Myles's and Xavier's pints, trying to speed up the process. "I hate surfing when I'm hungover, you know? Fucking scared I'll drown."

"What about the sharks?" Xavier grins. "Aren't you afraid you'll be eaten by the sharks?"

"Aren't you?" Ryan grins back. "You're the ones who have been spending so much time in the water." They're probably all crazy for joking about it at all -- the frightening fatal shark attack of a young surfer, just a bit down the coast. When Ryan had first heard the news report, his only thought had been of Sam.

"Yeah, but we've got a whole security team and helicopters over head watching out for us," Xavier retorts, sticking his tongue out. "You've just got Sam," he teases.

Which earns Xavier a smack, Sam swatting him hard on his upper arm. "I'm planning on taking a pair of Myles's runners with us. That'll keep 'em away."

Ryan chuckles and shakes his head. It's easy to get lost under the banter, let the three castmates have a go at each other while he quietly fades into the background and just laughs when appropriate. His real focus is on the level of beer in the pitchers, watching it drop as he refills pint glasses, subtly urging them on. He wants to get the hell out of here -- and he doesn't want to be drunk when he does it. Sam either, for that matter.

When Myles finally waves for a refill on their pitchers, Sam shakes his head, fishing his wallet from his backpocket and tossing some bills on the table. "I think we're done for," he says. "At least I am."

 _Oh thank god_. Ryan tries to keep his relief from showing on his face and look only mildly interested. But he's already nudging his way out of the booth and getting to his feet. "Have fun, you lot. Do _not_ call us if you need bail," he teases.

Xavier and Myles protest a little - both at their leaving and at the idea they might need bail - but the newly-arriving round of pitchers recaptures their interest and Sam and Ryan are able to make their getaway fairly easily. "Shit," Sam says when they get outside, the cool night air exactly what he needs to clear his head. "I don't think I'm in any shape to drive. You?"

"I'm okay." Mostly. And Ryan doesn't want to deal with walking a couple miles in the cold right now. He holds out his hand for the rental's keys, and grins at Sam. "Are you implying that someone could take advantage of you right now, with the state you're in?"

Sam chuckles. "Maybe." He drops the keys in Ryan's palm. "Is someone planning on trying to?"

Biting his lip on a grin, Ryan climbs into the driver's seat. "I'm always planning on it," he murmurs once the doors slam shut behind them. "I'm a plotter, like that."

"Yeah? And what exactly are you plotting?" Sam asks, smiling over at Ryan, his head leaned back against the seat.

"Oh gosh, with you so vulnerable?" The engine rumbles as they pull onto the main road, and Ryan's lips curve. "I think I'll have to get you naked, and see how much I can make you squirm. While you're defenseless and all."

Sam laughs. "You sure you're not a closet sadist?" he murmurs.

Ryan shrugs. "I didn't say there would be pain," he points out with a grin. "Unless it hurts you to scream my name and beg for more."

"You're assuming a lot, aren't you," Sam teases, rather hoping Ryan intends to follow through on his promises. "Not only making me beg but scream as well?"

They pull up to a red light, and Ryan lets the car idle at the deserted intersection. He turns his head to eye his lover in the dimness, and whispers, "I want to hear how much you want me."

Fuck. There's a long moment of silence and then Sam asks, "How much I want you or how much I want your cock?"

Ryan stares, searching Sam's face. "Me."

Sam wasn't expecting that. He nods and looks out the window for a second before looking back at Ryan. "I want you more than I remember ever wanting anyone," he says softly, his chest suddenly so tight it hurts. "I want to see you when we get back to the States. I want to keep seeing you. I want us to figure out a way to make this work no matter what because I'm willing to do that if you are."

The words tumble through Ryan's brain and blur together. He's not quite sure how they got here. They were talking about sex, and teasing, and okay maybe Sam had a little more to drink tonight than he realized. But the look on Sam's face...

Ryan abruptly yanks on the emergency brake, then reaches out and drags Sam in close, fingers curled tight into his jacket. He buries himself in his lover's mouth, need and confusion and panic all roiling up together.

Their teeth clash and Sam bites at Ryan's mouth, wanting more, needing more, terrified they're not on the same page despite this. That Ryan's going to go home and that's going to be it. And maybe he shouldn't say it, shouldn't make himself so fucking vulnerable, but he can't help it. "I love you," he whispers.

Ryan jerks away so fast it's like he's been shocked. "What?" he asks, staring. He figures he surely must have heard wrong.

Heart sinking, Sam blows out a soft breath and repeats himself. "I love you."

It's completely unexpected. And it's so _big_ that Ryan can still barely comprehend the meaning. Sam? And him? His lips curve slowly, shyly, and his eyes soften as he studies Sam's face for a long moment. Then Ryan leans close and kisses his lover again, gently this time.

Sam doesn't know what to make of that. Hopefully it's good. It feels good. Fuck. He can feel the wetness behind his closed lids.

Ryan tentatively explores Sam's mouth with his tongue. It feels like he's learning him for the first time. He slides his hand around Sam's nape, running his fingers through his lover's hair. Drowning in him.

With each passing second, Sam grows more hopeful, his heartrate slowing, the tightness in his chest easing. He licks at Ryan's tongue, nipping at it softly, moaning at the hand in his hair.

The blare of a car horn shocks Ryan back to reality. He jumps away as an SUV pulls around them into the intersection, and he ignores a rude gesture from the driver. Easing the car back into gear he resumes the drive home, but his thoughts are whirling. His heart is pounding.

Sitting back in his seat, Sam blows out a breath, glancing over at Ryan, unable to read his face in the shadows. "You okay?" he whispers finally, when he can bring himself to speak.

Ryan's brow furrows quizzically and he glances aside at Sam, perplexed by the question. "Yeah," he answers, taking the turn towards the beach and the neighborhood where Sam's rental is. "Of course." They can't get to the house fast enough, of course, but other than that he's fantastic.

"Okay. Good," Sam says softly, blowing out another breath and running his hands back and forth on his legs, that knot of fear he's still got in his stomach balling even tighter when they pull into the drive.

Parking in front of the house, Ryan kills the engine. In an instant his hands are back on Sam, dragging him in for another fierce kiss like before. But then a second later Ryan slams out of the car, jogging up the walk to unlock the front door.

His mind a jumble, Sam follows Ryan out of the car and into the house. Still unsure if should have just kept his mouth shut or what.

The moment the door is locked behind them, Ryan slams his lover against the wall, yanking at Sam's clothing. Emotion is boiling up inside him, all mixed up with want, and he doesn't know how to express it except through lust. "Need you," he grates out, tugging Sam's shirt off. " _Now_."

Like Sam could ever say no. In a second, his shirt hits the floor and his jeans follow soon after, his hands back on Ryan, tearing at _his_ clothes.

Stumbling out of his boots, Ryan tackles Sam to the floor. It's not as comfortable as the bed, and it sure isn't romantic, but he's _hungry_. He growls and works his way down Sam's body with quick nipping bites to his throat and chest. Just a passing lick of his lover's cock and then Ryan shoves Sam's knees up, pushing past any resistance and thrusting his tongue into Sam's hole in a second.

"Oh, fuck," tumbles from Sam's mouth and he grabs at his knees, holding his legs up, himself open for his lover, his cock pulsing hotly against his belly.

Ryan's tongue darts in again and again. There's no tease about it, no finesse, just brutal desire and demand when he slurps two of his fingers into his mouth and then penetrates Sam's ass, curling to hit his sweet spot.

Sam groans raggedly, his head falling back to thump against the floor. "Ow, fuck," he curses, but he's back to moaning and bearing down a second later, the pure pleasure of what Ryan's doing to him overriding everything else.

Fuck it feels amazing. It is amazing, even as Ryan muffles a snicker at Sam's cursing. He thrills with a rush of heady power, high with excitement and disbelief that _he_ is the one to make this incredible man respond this way.

"Oh god yeah," Sam groans, shifting his knees even higher, his legs wider. "Fuck me."

Ryan lifts his head, uncertain but ready to pounce in a second if it's what Sam wants. "Now?" he asks breathlessly, corkscrewing his fingers together inside Sam's ass.

Sam just nods, reaching down to shove a hand in Ryan's hair and pull him up.

That seems pretty definite. Ryan covers Sam, settling between his legs and hissing at the brush of hot skin against his cock. He holds Sam's hole open with two fingers and groans when the head pushes past that first tight ring of muscle.

Sam groans again, purposely thumping his head on the floor this time, as Ryan works his way into him. "Come on, come on," he urges, need overriding sense.

 _Hell_. Ryan grabs Sam's thigh and shoves it up, opening him even wider and driving in to the hilt with a primal shout. He's hurting him, he's pretty sure. And there will definitely be some serious rugburn to be dealt with. Later.

Sam cries out, but his cock jerks against his stomach, smearing precome over his skin while his body clamps down around Ryan's length, pulling him deeper.

"God," Ryan mutters, burying a groan against Sam's shoulder. He eases out then rocks back in, streaks of pleasure lighting him up. Licking at Sam's throat he tastes salt-sweat and it makes him so hungry that he barely resists sinking his teeth in.

"Oh god yeah, fuck me," Sam moans, meeting Ryan's thrusts, his nails dragged down Ryan's back, drawing blood to the surface. "Harder."

The fire rushing through Ryan's flesh spurs him on -- faster, harder. He pounds into Sam's body, using him, hurtling towards the edge. "Come," he gasps, needing Sam to be there too. "Come with me."

Sam arches up against Ryan, getting a little more friction for his cock and nods, shouting as the first wave of his release crashes over him.

 _Fuck yes_. Being inside Sam when he comes -- it feels fucking amazing. Ryan holds out as long as he can but then surrenders, smothering a loud whimper against Sam's throat and shuddering with his climax.

Sam tightens his legs around Ryan, keeping him deep, the liquid heat almost searing his insides. Clinging to Ryan, holding him close, not wanting to let him go. Ever. Christ.

Heavy-limbed and sleepy, eventually Ryan manages to drag his eyes open. And he realizes he doesn't even know how long they've been down. "Still on the floor," he whispers, shifting so that he can nuzzle Sam's throat. He should probably get off of him. Sometime.

"Yeah." Sam nods, still holding Ryan tight. He smiles. "We could just stay here," he suggests. Joking. Mostly.

"We could." Ryan grins. Then he eases to his back on the carpet, pulling Sam with him. "Come here," he whispers, drawing his lover in against his chest. Keeping him close.

Sam goes with Ryan, curling in against his lover in a way that's pretty uncharacteristic for him. The sex was brilliant but he feels small and tired and more vulnerable than ever.

Ryan isn't used to Sam being quite this quiet. He wonders if it's the alcohol, or maybe just the cumulative effect of the workweek. So he says nothing, just holds his lover, slowly stroking over his back, his shoulders. Savoring the simple touch.

Sam can't just say nothing. And not knowing is killing him. It's not like he needs Ryan to say the words back to him. God knows that's the last thing he'd want if Ryan doesn't mean it. But he needs to know they're okay. In words. "I didn't freak you out too much back there? In the car?" he asks finally, his voice soft, grateful they never turned on the lights.

Surprised by the question Ryan pulls back a little, just enough to try and see Sam's eyes. It doesn't work. "You didn't freak me out," he denies softly, but then rolls his eyes at himself. "You just... startled me, that's all. I wasn't expecting you to..." _Fall in love with me_. Haltingly, he tries to explain. "The way I feel about you, Sam... I've never been in love with a man before. I didn't know how to describe it."

Sam smiles. "Is it that different from being in love with a woman?" he asks, quickly covering for the honest curiosity behind the question with, "I'm kidding. I'm not trying to get you to say it. I just needed you to know how I felt and I wanted to make sure you're not going to go back to the States and disappear from my life."

"I'm crazy about you, Sam," Ryan whispers. "There's all this... just, like, electric lust between us. Every time you touch me, I feel like I'm going to catch fire. But then, every time you smile at me..." God, his heart just slams against his ribs. "So it can't just be the amazing sex."

 _Crazy about you._ Sam's smile widens into a grin. "Crazy works for me," he says, relieved, shifting up a little so he can kiss Ryan. "So does the amazing sex."

[To chapter seventeen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/327101)


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